


Speak of the Devil

by izurus



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Contract-bound allies to friends to lovers, Curses, M/M, this may be a demon au but really it's a komaeda's dog appreciation fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izurus/pseuds/izurus
Summary: Komaeda had never expected to spend his college years drawing pentagrams on the floor of his apartment. Then again, with luck like his, life rarely happened as expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this isn’t related to kimium’s demon au at all, but i guess i’d say it’s inspired because i read some of it and went “cool concept! i want to write my own with more weird plot and less emotional manipulation.” that being said, not much is really the same except that it’s komahina and demons. yeah. i hope you enjoy it!

“You are cursed.”

Komaeda blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Did my utterance escape your mortal ears?” Tanaka threw back his head and laughed. “Ha! This is hardly the extent of my knowledge. The true depths of hidden wisdom visible to my third eye are unfathomable to a human like you, cursed one.”

“I’ll... keep that in mind,” he said slowly. He had known the man for all of two minutes, and Komaeda was no expert on social interaction, but he was getting the sneaking suspicion that he was out of his depth.

“Do you doubt my pronouncement of your fate?” Tanaka leaned in slightly, and Komaeda noticed for the first time that he was wearing a single red contact. “Your aura reeks of decay. Your fragile form is trapped in an endless cycle of light and dark, torn asunder by the winds of fate.”

“Haha, um, thank you,” he responded blankly, brain struggling to decipher the words that had just been thrown at it. He paused when it finally caught up. “Wait, how did you…?”

“Hello!”

Sonia’s clear voice rang out across the mall. The two men turned towards it, Komaeda raising a hand in a half-wave as she came rushing over with a smile.

“My apologies,” she said, only slightly out of breath. “I had a bit of trouble finding the right train. Have you two introduced yourselves already?”

Tanaka nodded decisively, arms crossed over his chest. “I have peered into the very core of his being.”

“If that’s an introduction…”

“Wonderful!” Sonia clapped her hands together. “Shall we go inside?”

Komaeda followed the two others through the glass doors into the cafe, still pondering Tanaka’s words. The place was small but stylish, all polished wood and low lighting, heavy with the warm smell of coffee. He glanced up at the menu above the counter.

“I’ve been so excited to try the tea lattes here,” Sonia was saying, gesturing eagerly at the menu. “Gundam, do you know what you want?”

Tanaka chose an elaborate coffee drink, while Komaeda ordered something he hoped wouldn’t be too sweet. The three of them took their drinks to a table by the window.

“You two seem to get along well,” Komaeda commented. Sonia beamed while Tanaka adjusted his scarf and coughed.

“We met through the occult club on campus!” she said proudly.

“We have one of those?”

“It is… lacking in disciples,” Tanaka said gravely.

“And funds,” Sonia added. “I’m actually not entirely certain it’s recognized as a campus organization. Regardless, it’s refreshing to find others who share my interests!”

“Indeed,” Tanaka agreed, nodding sagely. “The arcane arts are not wisely traversed alone.”

“Speaking of which,” he said, turning to Tanaka. “Earlier you said something about, uh…” He laughed awkwardly. “Well, not that I would question someone who’s clearly more knowledgeable about this than me, but you said I was… cursed?”

To his surprise, Tanaka didn’t cackle like he had earlier. Instead, he simply nodded, eyebrows drawn together.

“It is a powerful hex,” he said, lowering his voice. “I could sense the miasma in your energy even before setting eyes on your physical form.”

“That strong?” Sonia gasped, in what seemed like genuine shock.

“I am afraid so.”

Komaeda gave another half-hearted laugh. “Again, I don’t want to imply that I don’t believe you, or bother you with stupid questions,” he said, “but what-”

“Oh, no questions are stupid!” Sonia interrupted, clasping his hand across the table. “This is serious, Komaeda. Gundam is an expert.”

Tanaka tugged on his scarf again, a faint tinge of color rising on his cheeks. “Y-yes… I have considerable experience in matters of the spirit.” He cleared his throat and resumed his serious tone. “Your curse is indeed powerful, but it seems the sands of time look upon you kindly where the whims of fate do not.”

“... I see.” He didn’t.

“Perhaps we can help you do some research,” Sonia said, taking her phone out of her back pocket. “I know of some reputable websites that can give you more information on curses.”

He decided against commenting on the paradox of a _reputable_ curse site, instead smiling politely as Sonia sent him the links. His phone dinged when she was finished.

“I got them,” he said, checking his messages. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course! We’re always happy to assist when it comes to the dark arts.”

“I’m sure.”

“But anyway, enough about curses,” she said, although she seemed pained to leave the subject. “How has college been?”

That was a topic that even his pitiful social skills could handle. He relaxed into the conversation, and the morning passed easily.

 

\---

 

Driving home from somewhere so close to a train station was always a pain, but Komaeda didn’t want to risk public transportation. He put his car keys down on the counter with a jingle as he stepped into his apartment, closing the door behind him.

“I’m home,” he called out softly.

For one terrifying moment, there was silence, and his heart skipped a beat. But then he heard the familiar pitter-patter of claws on the floor, and a small white dog rounded the corner to jump up at his ankles. He exhaled.

“Hey, Lucky,” he said, crouching down to ruffle the dog’s fur. “Sorry I was gone so long.”

Lucky whined and followed him as he went to refill her food bowl, eagerly starting to eat before Komaeda had even finished pouring from the bag. She continued eating as Komaeda stood up and moved to the couch, pulling out his phone to see what Sonia had texted him earlier. Her name was fifth in his sparse contacts list.

There were four links. Names like “cursesandhexes.com” didn’t inspire much confidence, and neither did the black-and-red HTML layouts adorned with poorly resized clipart of ghosts and pentagrams. Still, he persisted, scanning through the pages despite having no idea what he was looking for.

“Witch’s hex or demon’s curse,” he read aloud upon coming to one site with a flashing tiled background. “How to tell the difference with this six-question quiz. Seriously?”

Lucky pawed at his ankle, and he picked her up absentmindedly to set her on the couch next to him. “I’m starting to get the feeling Sonia is laughing behind my back,” he sighed, scratching her head. Lucky just nuzzled his hand. “Not that I don’t deserve it.”

It felt ridiculous to be reading about witchcraft and magic at the age of twenty, especially as someone who hadn’t believed in the supernatural since he was a child. At least, not in the traditional sense; it was undeniable that his luck defied the laws of probability. With something like that in his life, it seemed silly to be afraid of ghosts and monsters.

But no amount of logical cynicism could explain the way Tanaka identified that luck cycle immediately after meeting him. He had never told Sonia about his parents, or his sickness, or how he always avoided taking the train to keep his luck as contained as possible. The most she knew was that he had a tendency to get too worried about his dog.

As if she could read his mind, Lucky whined and started pawing at his leg. He ran his fingers through her fur, and she rolled over happily on the couch.

“I guess a curse is as likely as anything,” he mumbled, and re-opened the contacts list on his phone.

 

\---

 

“Are you sure?”

Cell phone clamped between his shoulder and his ear, Komaeda stared down at the pentagram drawn sloppily on the large piece of butcher paper in front of him. His hands were dusty with red chalk, and Lucky’s insistence on being involved had given her a faint pink tint before he could shoo her away to the bedroom.

_“Positive!"_  Sonia’s voice crackled over the phone. _“A tiny amount is fine, but make sure to put it in the center.”_

“Assuming this actually works,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level. “Not that I would _ever_ doubt your judgement, but isn’t making blood pacts with demons usually a bad idea? Like, in general?”

_“It is not a pact!”_ she said, sounding scandalized that he would suggest such a thing. _“All you need to do is talk to it and find out the conditions of your curse. Then you can send it away.”_

“It won’t be angry?”

_“Oh, undoubtedly. Hella pissed. But it cannot hurt you unless you agree to a contract.”_

“Right.” He sighed, ignoring the slang. “Okay. Of course.”

He stood up, dusting his hands off on his jeans and moving his phone to the other shoulder. The apartment was lacking in any kitchen knives (and most other kitchen tools, for that matter), but a swiss army knife would be more than suitable for the job. Tiptoeing carefully over the chalk lines, Komaeda moved to the center of the crinkled paper and held out a hand in front of him. He pulled the knife out of his pocket and flicked it open.

“I’m doing it,” he said.

_“Be careful!”_

Quickly, he sliced the side of his palm. A trickle of blood inched down from the cut. Ignoring the sting, he squeezed his hand into a fist and watched as it dripped onto the paper.

For a split second, he could swear he felt a breeze in the room, and his heart leapt into his throat, and then…

 

“...nothing happened.”

_“What?”_

Komaeda laughed. _Hard._ Not the nervous half-laugh from the cafe, but gasping, wheezy laughter that shook his whole frame. Distantly, he could hear Sonia saying something about making sure the symbols were drawn correctly, but the phone had fallen from his ear as he crouched down on the floor, bent over and clutching the knife to his chest.

_“ —Komaeda, are you alright?”_ she was saying, voice tinny through the tiny speakers. _“Are you… are you laughing? Can you hear me?”_ He picked up the phone with his trembling left hand, the right still dripping with blood.

“Sorry,” he whispered, still giggling. “I must have messed it up. How pathetic.” How pathetic to hope for a miracle in something as childish as this.

_“I suppose that is possible, but…”_

“I won’t keep bothering you. Bye, Sonia.”

He hung up before she could protest, still laughing weakly as he fell onto his back to stare at the ceiling. His chest hurt and his hand stung. Suddenly it all seemed even more ridiculous than before.

“Stupid,” he whispered. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. Believing in fairytales.”

The ceiling was white. The floor was hard and uncomfortable. He lay there for a small eternity before he felt a wet nose against his arm.

“Sorry, Lucky,” he said, reluctantly pushing himself up off the floor. Lucky’s fur looked even pinker than before, which she seemed to be pleased about as she sniffed the failed pentagram and rubbed her face in it. Komaeda was sure his white shirt was stained with chalk and blood at this point, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He gently pushed the dog away and started to fold up the piece of butcher paper.

“I probably can’t recycle this now, huh.”

Lucky, ignorant to the intricacies of the local trash disposal laws, did not respond.

“I’m glad you can’t actually understand what I’m saying,” he said absentmindedly as he brought the paper to the trash can. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to stand me otherwise. You know, I’m really lucky to have you. Haha.”

Laughing weakly at his own bad joke, he started rummaging around for a box of band-aids in the kitchen. “Any human roommate would definitely be burning their lease papers right now. If they hadn’t already gotten sick of me, I’m sure the demon summoning would seal the deal.”  Band-aid applied, he walked back to the couch and sat down heavily. Lucky dutifully followed him, curling up in his lap.

“After all,” he said, petting her softly. “Even if magic were real, I’m sure it wouldn’t help me.”

 

\---

 

A few days later, Komaeda’s life had returned to normalcy. Relatively speaking. The summoning attempt must have been bad luck, because on Monday he found a pair of tickets on the ground for a sold-out play. He tried to offer them to Sonia and Tanaka as an apology for causing so much trouble, but Sonia had adamantly refused. _You caused us no trouble,_ she had insisted, and instead apologized for her own errors with the summoning. Komaeda wasn’t certain, but he thought she might have been embarrassed.

On Tuesday, he had felt bad about wasting the tickets and gone to the play by himself, but only 15 minutes in someone pulled the fire alarm and set the sprinklers off. He drove home soaked to the bone (but not to his boxers) and tried not to catch a cold. On Wednesday, he received an email from the theater saying that he was entitled to compensation worth the value of the tickets for the inconvenience. He had politely declined and told them to keep the money.

Now, he sat on his bed, laptop in front of him and a box of tissues on his left. The pounding sinus headache made it impossible to get any studying done. He wanted to blame the cold on his bad luck, but with his weak immune system it was probably more of an inevitability. He was just standing up to get more medicine when he heard the doorbell ring.

“Just a minute!”

Komaeda quickly squeezed out some hand sanitizer, rubbing it in as he left his room. He peeked into the kitchen to make sure Lucky was still sleeping before moving towards the doorway, squinting through the peephole to see who had rung the bell.

The man outside looked to be around Komaeda’s age. He had short brown hair and green eyes, dressed in a formal shirt and pair of slacks. No briefcase or clipboard, which seemed odd for a door-to-door salesman, but he was holding a small book at his side. His other hand fiddled with his tie as he waited in the hall.

Komaeda braced himself and opened the door.

“Hi, can I help you?” He was going for _polite but disinterested_ , but with all the congestion, he probably ended up somewhere closer to _nearly dead_.

“Hi,” said the man. “I’m really sorry for showing up unannounced like this, but I didn’t get a call from you or anything. I figured it might be good to come in person.”

Komaeda tilted his head. “Sorry? Do I know you?”

The man frowned. “Uh, is this the wrong apartment? You’re... Nagito Komaeda, right?”

“Yes, but I’m not expecting anyone.”

“You’re not…? Do you, uh, have a roommate or something?” 

“Just my dog.”

“Oh, wait, this is probably because I’m late, isn’t it.” He laughed nervously. “Um, sorry about that. I couldn’t come on Sunday so I left a note instead.”

Komaeda frowned, thinking back to any notes he might have received. “I might have thrown it out with the rest of the ads in my mailbox,” he said. “But either way, I don’t remember calling for anyone, so I think you have the wrong person. Have a nice day.” He started to close the door.

“Seriously? You  _ forgot _ about doing blood magic on your kitchen floor?”

Komaeda froze.

“What?”

“I mean, not to be rude, but I think that’s pretty memorable.”

“No, that’s not what I… who are you?”

The man cleared his throat and bowed slightly, seeming uncomfortable with the formal movement.

“I’m Hajime Hinata,” he said. “And I’m here to break your curse.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for a brief description of drowning near the end

“Hajime Hinata,” Komaeda repeated.

“That’s me.”

“It’s not a particularly demonic-sounding name,” he observed, still hovering in the doorway. Hinata raised an eyebrow.

“What, were you expecting Beetlejuice?”

“I wasn’t really expecting anything, to be perfectly honest.”

“Great,” he said flatly. “Can we not have this conversation in the hallway?”

“R-right, of course.” Komaeda stepped back, opening the door to let him in. Hinata politely took his shoes off at the entrance and came inside.

“Would you, uh, like some tea…?” Komaeda offered hesitantly.

“I’m good, thanks.”

Hinata stood in the living room, tugging on his tie again and looking unsure of where to go.

“...coffee?” he tried. “It’s probably cold by now, but I could microwave it.” He reconsidered. “Actually, microwaves can be unpredictable, and I’d rather not start a kitchen fire, so maybe…. water…. I’m really a terrible host, I’m sorry-”

“No, you’re fine,” Hinata said quickly, cutting him off. “I don’t really, uh, drink. I mean, not alcohol,” he added quickly. “Like, liquids. In general.”

“Ah.”

The silence was deafening.

“So,” Hinata started. “Do you want to… explain your curse?”

“Oh! Yes. Right.” Komaeda laughed quickly. “Here, you can sit down.”

“Thanks.”

The man took a seat on the small couch, setting his small black book down next to him. Komaeda couldn’t quite make out the letters on the cover. Sonia’s warnings about contracts flashed through his mind.

“I should probably warn you that I don’t really know how any of this works,” he said cautiously.

“I kind of noticed.”

“What gave it away?”

“Well, your pentagram was pretty… not good,” Hinata said, mouth twitching. “I mean, I get summoned as a prank by stupid teenagers all the time, but your handwriting is something _else_. I’m honestly surprised it worked at all.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Komaeda said drily. “Hey, speaking of pranks, how do I know you’re not just someone my friend sent to my apartment?”

“Huh?” Hinata seemed genuinely confused. “Your friend…? Oh, you want proof that I’m a demon, right?”

“Only if I won’t regret asking.”

Hinata rolled his eyes at that. “Relax, I’m not gonna kill you or anything.”

He rolled up one sleeve of his white shirt to the elbow, revealing an arm covered in what looked like strange tattoos. With his other hand, he traced the lines briefly before snapping his fingers, and-

“Is that enough proof?”

Flickering in the palm of Hinata’s upraised hand was a small, deep red flame. The lines he had traced on his arm were glowing warmly. Komaeda sat down heavily on a chair.

“Oh,” he said faintly.

Hinata closed his hand in a fist and the flame disappeared. He rolled his sleeve back down and then looked at Komaeda, eyebrows furrowed.

“You okay?” he asked. Komaeda blinked.

“Uh,” he answered eloquently.

“Look, if this is too weird for you, I can just-”

“No!” he gasped. “No, no. Please don’t.” If he really thought about it, on the scale of weird things that had happened in his life, this _probably_ wasn’t the weirdest. Logically, magic would explain quite a lot. He almost wanted to laugh.

“Cool,” Hinata said, then paused. “So, uh, about that curse?”

“Ah, yes.” Komaeda hesitated and tried to pull himself together. “Basically, I have… very good luck,” he started. “I mean, good enough to win the lottery when I didn’t even plan on entering. Multiple times. But whenever I have good luck, bad luck comes afterward, and vice versa.”

“So it’s a cycle,” Hinata said, frowning. “What’s the bad luck like?”

“It depends. Sometimes it’s spilling a coffee on myself, sometimes it’s my mother dying. Or being kidnapped. Or contracting two fatal illnesses.” Hinata’s expression morphed into one of horror.

“A-are you serious?” he stuttered. “You can’t just say that while smiling!”

Komaeda shrugged. “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now. Anyway, you’re a demon, right? Aren’t you supposed to cause suffering or something?”

Hinata stared at him for a moment more before narrowing his eyes, fixing him with a piercing green gaze. “I’ll just… unpack that later,” he said slowly. “But what you said before makes sense. Your aura looks weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Kind of… muddy?” he tried. “Like it’s black and white mixed together, but it’s not really gray.”

“Hmm. I guess Tanaka said something similar.”

“Tanaka?” Hinata looked surprised. “You know someone who can… actually, that explains why you summoned a demon even though you’re totally clueless.”

Komaeda huffed. “I did my research, Hinata,” he said lightly. “For instance, I know you can tell me the conditions of this curse before I make a contract, yes?”

Hinata bit his lip and looked away. “Ideally, yeah,” he said, “but sometimes they’re hidden. And I’m not… very experienced at that kind of thing. Wait, actually,” he added, hesitation gone, “are you even planning on contracting me at all?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to,” Komaeda said carefully. He didn’t know if promising anything to a demon technically had consequences, but years of fantasy novels had left an impression. “I just want to know what breaking this curse will entail first.”

Hinata sighed and rolled up his sleeves again, revealing more tattoos on the other side. “Fine. Just please don’t bail on me, I really need to get paid this month. Could you stand up?”

Komaeda complied, and Hinata moved towards him, stopping just a few inches away.

“Sorry to get in your personal space,” he said, looking down. “This might be a little weird.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Komaeda said cheerfully, but tensed up as Hinata touched his hands to either side of Komaeda’s head. A shiver ran down his spine.

Hinata closed his eyes and exhaled. At this distance, Komaeda could see a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and thick brown eyebrows that twitched as he concentrated on whatever he was doing. His hands felt solid and warm on Komaeda’s temples, just like any human’s, but the marks on his arms were glowing again with that dull red light. Komaeda suddenly felt the urge to sneeze.

“Shit…” Hinata muttered, eyes still closed. “I can hardly see anything.”

“Maybe you should open your eyes,” Komaeda suggested before he could help himself, voice already cracking in a nervous laugh. Those green eyes blinked open and fixed him with a glare.

“Was that necessary?”

“S-sorry,” he giggled. “My sense of humor is abysmal, I really don’t know why I open my mouth at all!”

Hinata blinked again. “Uh… okay?” he said, frowning. He lowered his hands to his sides and stepped back to a more comfortable distance away from Komaeda.

“So, bad news,” he said. “I can’t see the terms at all. Whoever cursed you hid them pretty well. Good news, that means they have to be written down somewhere, probably wherever the curse was originally placed.”

“Does that mean you can find them?” Komaeda breathed, hands clasped.

“Yeah,” Hinata said, nodding. “I can help you break them, too. But I can’t work for free.”

“Ah.”

“I mean, I literally can’t work for free,” Hinata clarified. “It’s illegal.”

“Really?” Komaeda raised an eyebrow. “What, are there labor unions in the demon world?”

Hinata snorted. “No, but that would be great,” he said. “Angels don’t want us to mess things up too much, so we pretty much can’t do anything without a contract.”

“Angels…? Hey, what about-”

“If you’re gonna ask me if God exists, don’t bother.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “I suppose it wouldn’t be that easy.”

“Yeah. Anyway, can we do the contract now? If you’re okay with it?”

Komaeda hummed noncommittally. Sonia had been very clear about the dangers of making pacts with demons, but it didn’t seem like he had any other leads on breaking the curse. And Hinata wasn’t exactly the beguiling enchanter he had been envisioning.

“What are the terms?” he asked instead. Hinata picked up his book from the couch and opened it, flipping to a specific page before handing it over to Komaeda.

The writing was printed in small black font, densely packed to fit onto the compact page. He scanned the text, reading quickly when a line caught his eye.

_If, once the assigned task has been completed, the contractor does not deliver payment, the contracted may take the agreed payment by force._

“So, this payment,” he asked. “What is it, my soul?”

“No, it’s a timeshare.”

Komaeda stared. Hinata looked back at him for a moment, completely serious, before groaning.

 _“Yes_ , it’s your soul, genius,” he said. “I was being sarcastic.”

“That’s a shame. You had my hopes up.”

“Well, not the whole thing,” Hinata continued. “Breaking a curse would take like… half, probably? Maybe more if you want me to get rid of your cancer, too.”

“You could tell?” he asked, eyes wide. Hinata nodded.

“Yeah. It’s not that hard to see,” he said. “Even if it was caused by your luck, it won’t just go away once the curse is gone.”

No luck. No illness. Komaeda could hardly comprehend it.

“Er, sorry if that was, uh… insensitive, or anything. To bring up,” Hinata said, looking worriedly at Komaeda’s blank expression. Komaeda blinked and shook his head immediately.

“No! No, not at all! Please don’t worry about my feelings,” he insisted. Hinata didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, so Komaeda decided to return to the details. “Anyway, what does giving you my soul mean?”

“Oh. If you give up part of it, it just means you won’t pass over to the afterlife when you die. The remains either get reincarnated or disappear over time.” Hinata made a vague wavy motion with his hands as if that would clarify the concept.

Komaeda pondered for a moment. “What’s the alternative?”

“You mean, what’s the afterlife like?” Hinata asked, and Komaeda nodded. “Don’t know, I’ve never been.”

“I see.”

He was silent again, Hinata drumming his fingers on the couch across from him. The sensible thing to do would be to at least ask for another day to think about it, and then call Sonia and Tanaka. But who was he to make them deal with his problems? And after a lifetime of luck taking away any control over his life, it seemed unthinkable to let his only chance at freedom slip through his fingers so easily. Hinata was a shining opportunity, a sole flicker of hope in the darkness. And Komaeda had never really expected an afterlife anyway, so what difference would it make?

“Okay,” he said eventually.

“Really?” Hinata almost jumped. “I mean, great. Amazing. Here, just sign on the bottom.” He reached into his pocket, but instead of pulling out a pen like Komaeda was expecting, he produced a small X-Acto knife.

“Uh, so am I supposed to…?”

Hinata sighed impatiently. “Here, give me the book, I’ll do it first.”

Komaeda handed it over, deliberately ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. Hinata uncapped the knife and pricked his finger, pressing it firmly to the paper. He handed the book and the knife back to Komaeda.

“So… if you can break my curse and cure my cancer, I give you half my soul?”

“Uh huh.”

He hesitated for only a moment before pricking his finger decisively, putting it on the page next to the red mark Hinata had made.

He expected a certain sense of finality. The blood soaked into the paper slowly, but other than that, nothing changed.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

He looked up, and to his surprise, Hinata’s appearance had shifted. Instead of hazel green, his eyes were a deep crimson, and two straight black horns protruded a few inches from the top of his head. Hinata caught him staring and raised a hand self-consciously as if to hide them.

“It’s just because we’re sealed now,” he said, sounding almost sheepish. “Other people can’t see them.”

Komaeda laughed. “I’m glad all my childhood fantasy books weren’t lying to me after all,” he said lightly. “I was feeling a little betrayed.”

Hinata’s mouth twitched again in a half-smile. “Thanks,” he said, and Komaeda couldn’t tell whether it was sincere appreciation or just more sarcasm. “Anyway, I can start trying to find those conditions now, if you know where you might have been cursed.”

“I don’t remember it happening, so I’m not sure.”

“You might have been too young. Did your parents piss off any witches? We could try an old childhood home, or wherever you were born.”

“My mother never seemed like the type to dabble in witchcraft, but it’s possible.”

“She might not have known she was dealing with a witch. Or a demon,” Hinata added, looking thoughtful. “Actually, if your mom made someone mad before you were born, they would have cursed you as soon as possible.”

“So the terms would be in the hospital where I was born?”

“It’s pretty likely.”

Hinata stood up. He picked up the book from the coffee table, closing the pages on the matching red splotches, and started to cover up his tattoos once more. When he started moving towards the door, Komaeda stood up as well.

“Are you leaving?” he asked in surprise. Hinata turned back to him.

“Yes…? Don’t you want to find the terms?” He frowned. “I mean, unless you have something else planned for tonight besides selling your soul.”

“I’m not exactly booked,” he admitted. “But it’s-” he glanced at a clock “-nine o’clock on a Thursday night, and I have class tomorrow. Also, I’m sick.”

As if to prove his point, Komaeda felt another tickle in his nose, and he sneezed. Hinata’s expression twisted, and Komaeda could have sworn the demon looked guilty.

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry. We can go on Saturday when you don’t have class. Um... feel better,” he offered. Komaeda smiled politely.

“With any luck, I will.”

Hinata looked at him strangely again with those red eyes. Then he turned away, leaning over to pick up his shoes at the doorstep.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said as he stepped into the hallway. Komaeda offered a weak wave.

“See you, Hinata.”

The door closed behind him.

Komaeda was again alone in his apartment, accompanied only by the sound of Lucky still sleeping peacefully in the kitchen nearby. For the first time since Hinata’s arrival, he noticed the dull pain of his headache once more.

He started to return to his bedroom, but hesitated. On a whim, he moved back to the front door and leaned in to squint through the peephole.

Up and down the hallway, there was nothing but thin carpet and closed doors. Hinata was nowhere to be seen.

 

\---

 

That night, swaddled in blankets and fortified with antihistamines, Komaeda expected dreams of demons and blood magic. Instead, he sat at the side of a swimming pool in a lazy summer haze. Cicadas droned in the August heat as the sun shimmered and beat down on the cement, sticking to his bare skin.

“You shouldn't play video games by the water,” he found himself saying, short legs swinging carelessly over the edge. “You might drop it.”

His companion seemed to disregard him, focused instead on the pink console in her small hands. He frowned.

 _“Chiaki,”_  he whined. The girl looked up.

“Sorry, Nagito,” she said slowly. “What did you say?”

“I said you shouldn’t play video games at the pool. My mom told me the game might get wet.”

Chiaki paused for a moment, reaching up to push a strand of dark brown hair out of her face.

“...I think it’s fine,” she said eventually. “Lucky chews on it sometimes. It still works.”

“But what if it gets splashed?” he asked. The girl shrugged.

“I’ll be careful,” she said.

He looked down at the bright blue water, serene and calm in the empty pool. “I dunno,” he said doubtfully. “I feel like something bad’s gonna happen.”

“Nagito…”

He looked up, and Chiaki was focused on her game again, but she seemed to have something to say. He waited impatiently, leg bouncing against the concrete.

Eventually, she looked up, fixing him with a blank stare.

“Are you scared?” she asked simply.

He started to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.

His open mouth was filling up with water, and his eyes widened as the taste of chlorine stung his throat, spilling out onto the hot cement. Chiaki’s expression didn’t change, still staring at him with those empty eyes as he struggled to breathe. His vision swam and everything started to blur.

She watched him impassively as the world went black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for so much exposition. thanks for reading! hope you like magic demon tattoos because i sure do


	3. Chapter 3

Komaeda woke up coughing. His throat was scratchy and dry, and his head felt like a jug full of water that sloshed when he moved. He reached for a glass of water and the pills on his nightstand. Blindly groping around in the dim room, he felt his hand hit something and knock it off the stand with a _thunk_.

 _“Shit,”_ he hissed. He pushed off the heavy blankets, ignoring the protest in his skull as he stood up and shuffled over to the light switch. He winced and shielded his eyes from the sudden brightness in his room when the lights came on.

Making his way back to the bed, he found that a bottle of pills had fallen into the recycling bin. He reached down to grab it when the pile of papers at the bottom caught his eye, mostly advertisements and useless mail from the bank. A small white piece of paper poked out from between the envelopes and glossy brochures. He pulled it out and sat back down heavily on the bed.

Komaeda examined the paper. It was a note, slightly crumpled, written in black pen with neat slanted handwriting.

 

_Nagito Komaeda —_

_Hi! Sorry I missed your summons. I was busy with another job at the moment and couldn’t respond. I’m happy to meet with you and discuss terms whenever you’re available, so please get in contact with me to schedule a time. You can reach me through standard telepathic channels or at the number below._

_Thank you for your patience._

_Hajime Hinata_

_090-XXXX-XXXX_

 

Komaeda stared blearily at the paper in disbelief, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“So it _was_ real,” he mumbled. The weirdly businesslike tone of the note didn’t change the fact that he had sold half of his soul last night. He had a fleeting inclination to call the number and ask what _exactly_ a standard telepathic channel was, but the thought disappeared as he was seized by another round of coughing.

Once the coughing subsided, Komaeda downed his pills with practiced ease, washing them down with water as they slid down his throat. A glance at the clock told him it was too late to go back to sleep, so he slid out of bed again and started to look for something to wear. Gathering a pile of clothes in his arms, he stumbled into the bathroom and started to undress.

He tugged his shirt off over his head. As he did so, he felt a mild sting, like a rash or a mosquito bite. He craned his neck to get a glimpse of his bare back in the mirror. When he saw it, he bit back a gasp.

Just above his shoulder blades, a symbol was etched into his back. It looked like a half-circle with a few lines running across and sticking out from it, standing out in stark red against his pale skin. It didn’t look like a letter from any language he knew, but he had a vague memory of seeing it in the pentagram instructions Sonia had sent.

Komaeda reached back with one arm and touched the mark gingerly. It was sore, but not too painful. At least there was that. He considered looking for some rash cream or antibiotic gel, but he had a suspicion that they wouldn’t help much against a demonic seal. Instead, he picked up his discarded shirt and tucked it under the sink.

Head still pounding, Komaeda prepared for the day and tried to ignore the feeling that he had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

 

\---

 

He found Sonia outside his lecture hall after European history, talking to Tanaka and another woman with too many colors in her hair for Komaeda to count. They seemed to be involved in an intense conversation. Tanaka had pulled something out of his long scarf and _no, that couldn’t actually be a hamster, could it?_ The other two gasped in excitement, and Sonia started gesturing enthusiastically about something, waving the thermos of tea in her hand precariously. Komaeda gave up trying to decipher the conversation and waited for the third woman to leave before he approached.

Sonia noticed him before he even had a chance to greet her, face lighting up as she waved.

“Komaeda!” she called. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Is it? We have the same class together.” He regretted the words as soon as they fell out of his mouth, but Sonia’s smile barely wavered. Komaeda felt a spark of admiration for her constant composure. Tanaka frowned and adjusted his scarf.

“Nevertheless, I’m glad we are meeting under better circumstances than our encounter on Monday,” Sonia said gracefully. He remembered the theater tickets and winced inwardly. “Was there something you needed?”

“If you two are busy, I don’t want to keep you,” Komaeda said, and Tanaka scoffed.

“The dark lady and I are not bound to such insignificant forces as the march of time,” he said imperiously. “Regale us with your woes, mortal.”

To his horror, Komaeda found that he could no longer tell how much of Tanaka’s speech was nonsense. For all he knew, Tanaka was a demon too. Smiling and nodding seemed like the safest option.

He followed the two of them to a small courtyard behind the lecture hall, dotted with red maple trees and concrete benches, mostly empty save for a few students hunched over their laptops in the shade. Tanaka and Sonia sat with the thermos of tea next to them on the bench. Komaeda took a seat as well, careful to leave a safe distance in between.

“So,” Sonia started, hands neatly folded on her lap. “What did you come to discuss?”

“I was thinking,” Komaeda said slowly, “since you’re so knowledgeable about, ah… non-standard beliefs, maybe you could answer a few questions for me? Just out of curiosity.”

“Oh! I’d love to!” She leaned towards him, excitement glimmering in her eyes. “Have you taken an interest after our summoning attempt? Or have you been researching on your own?”

“Something like that,” he agreed. “I was actually hoping you could tell me more about demons.”

Sonia grinned, and Tanaka raised a hand as if commanding silence.

“Speak no more!” he boomed. “For we carry with us an unholy tome of power.”

Komaeda watched with increasing confusion as Sonia took the expensive-looking purse off of her shoulder and put it on the bench, unbuckling the leather strap. She pulled out a thick book with a glossy cover. The title was printed in bold black and white against an eye-searingly yellow background.

 _“Occultism for The Hopelessly Stupid_ ,” he read aloud. “You just… have this?”

“For club activities!” she said, as if that was an explanation.

“Do not misunderstand,” Tanaka said, sounding almost defensive. “Masters such as ourselves have no need for such elementary teachings. But the uninitiated often require a gradual introduction to the deep arts.”

“Of course,” Komaeda agreed, hardly listening. Sonia had opened the book and was rapidly flipping through the pages, glancing at the sections until she arrived at one titled _Supernatural Beings_. She found the page she was looking for and pointed triumphantly.

“Here!” she announced. The page showed a cartoonish diagram of a demon, helpfully labeled with things like _tapetum lucidum_ and _horns (shape varies)_ . “All manner of information is included in this book. Do not hesitate to ask if you have further questions, for we are _more_ than happy to assist you.”

Komaeda smiled and nodded again. “Thank you, Sonia, Tanaka,” he said. “I really don’t deserve your—”

He cut himself off as one of the paragraphs caught his eye. He frowned, scanning the sentences quickly. Sonia gave him a questioning glance.

“Has something caught your interest?” she asked. Komaeda pointed to the passage.

“Is all of this true?” he asked. Sonia leaned over to read what he was pointing at, then nodded vigorously.

“Absolutely!” she said. “Demons are very powerful creatures! Teleportation, possession, mind control...” she listed them off, reading from the book. “Respected occult experts around the world have observed these behaviors firsthand.”

Komaeda thought back to the deal he had made yesterday. He had been so focused on the possibility of escaping his luck cycle, he hadn’t even asked for another day to think it over. He would be the first to admit that his own decision-making abilities were... _questionable_ at best, but was he really this impulsive?

“So theoretically,” Komaeda said, “according to these very prestigious and trustworthy experts, if someone were to get, uh… mind controlled… how would they know?”

Sonia gave him a strange look.

“Hypothetically speaking.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but Tanaka laughed in that theatrical way of his. “What a foolish concern!” he said. “Unless you have been touched by a demon, cursed one, you are in no danger.”

“Ah, that’s…” The memory of Hinata’s hands on his temples crossed his mind, and he froze. “Comforting.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched, but it was only Sonia. She had reached over from her side of the bench and was looking at him, head tilted, pale blue eyes full of concern.

“Komaeda,” she said softly, “Are you worried about the failed summoning?”

“What? Oh, no, not at all!” He laughed, shrugging his shoulder in an attempt to dislodge her hand. “You really don’t have to worry about anything, Sonia, I promise! I shouldn’t even be bothering you right now.”

“That is not—”

“Really, truly, I mean it,” he interrupted. “And about the summoning, haha, it actually—”

He was cut off by a gasp as Sonia jerked her hand away from his shoulder. She stood up and whipped her head around, blonde hair swinging behind her. Komaeda stood up instinctively as well, moving to see what had happened.

The thermos was lying on its side on the bench. The top had fallen off and tea was splattered everywhere, staining Sonia’s white skirt and dripping down her legs.

And sitting on top of the thermos, cheeks puffed out, was a small, fluffy hamster.

“Cham-P!” Tanaka scrambled to grab the hamster, scooping it up from the bench and placing it firmly in his lap. His eyes were wide, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Has he injured you?” he asked, looking up at Sonia. She shook her head, quickly pulling herself together from the shock as she smoothed down her skirt.

“I suppose something must have startled him,” she said calmly. Komaeda exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“His dark nature hardly ever reveals itself like this…” Tanaka muttered, digging around in his purple backpack. He pulled out a pack of tissues and offered it sullenly to Sonia, who took one and started wiping the spilled tea off her legs.

“Gundam, do not concern yourself with guilt over a bit of bad luck,” she said. “I am sure Cham-P meant no harm.”

“I wasn’t guilty…” Tanaka mumbled, dropping the theatrics for a moment and staring at the hamster in his lap. Then he looked up and pointed at Komaeda with one bandaged finger.

“Cursed one!” he yelled. Komaeda smiled uncertainly.

“Yes?”

“The dark deva’s rampage cut through your tale of demonic conjuring.” _The hamster interrupted you talking about the summoning_ , he translated in his head. Trying to avoid Tanaka’s stare, his gaze wandered towards Sonia.

“Oh. I was just going to say…”

He stopped. Though she was trying to hide it with the stained edges of her skirt, Komaeda could see a blistering patch of burned red skin on Sonia’s leg.

He swallowed hard.

“Haha, I actually forgot!”

“You… forgot?”

“Mhm.” Komaeda nodded, laughing brightly, white curls bouncing around his ears. “I was so distracted by the hamster.”

“The dark devas are _not_ hamsters, you fiend!”

Komaeda’s smile stayed plastered on his face as he apologized thoughtlessly.

Tanaka began to lecture him on the hierarchy and politics of his hamster army, and at one point Komaeda was sure Sonia must have joined in, but the whole conversation slipped through his mind like water. He kept nodding and smiling as Sonia and Tanaka stood up to leave, saying something about getting a change of clothes. He waved as they walked away.

When the world came back into focus, he found himself standing alone in the courtyard. The bench was still dripping, and the sun had dipped slightly in the October sky, sending a chill through his thin frame. He stared at the slow drip of tea blankly as the new information turned over in his mind.

 _Demons are very powerful creatures,_ Sonia had said. His suspicion was far-fetched, but no more than anything else he had accepted in the past few days. And it would certainly explain why he had been so willing to give up his soul. Even if Komaeda was wrong and there was no magical manipulation involved, it was clear that Hinata was untrustworthy.

That being said… the tea continued to drip. The memory of Sonia’s blistered skin was burned into his mind. She had looked at him so kindly, so much concern in those blue eyes, and he had repaid her with nothing but bad luck.

_Drip._

He remembered another set of eyes, staring vacant and listless in his dream.

_Drip._

Komaeda gingerly sat down on the dry side of the bench. He pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket, fingers numb with cold as he unlocked it. He found his newest contact and started to type a message.

_Drip._

The words stared up at him from the screen. He hesitated a moment, fingers still numb and shaking, before pressing _send_.

_Drip._

**Hajime Hinata [090-XXXX-XXXX]**

**_(14:38)_ ** _  
_ _hello, this is nagito komaeda. i found your phone number on the note you left earlier. i was wondering if instead of tomorrow, we could meet after my classes are over today in around 2 hours? i want to break this curse as soon as possible_

 **_(14:38)_ ** **_  
_ ** _and i don’t have any time to waste._

 

\---

 

“So let me get this straight.”

Hinata stood in the living room of the apartment, hands on his hips, staring at the mass of white fluff in Komaeda’s arms.

“You’ve been cursed with a cycle of luck your whole life. An actual, literal curse. And you named your dog _Lucky?”_

The dog in question yapped at the mention of her name, squirming in an attempt to attack the unfamiliar man. Komaeda curled an arm around her protectively, frowning.

“Don’t be mean,” he chastised. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

“I’m not being mean to the _dog_ , I’m being— _ugh_ , never mind.” Hinata pressed a hand over his eyes.

“If you wanted to criticize _my_ decisions, I’d completely understand,” Komaeda said. “But I’m not the one who named her.”

“Oh. Is she from a shelter or something?”

Lucky barked again. Komaeda patted her head and shushed her. “She belonged to an old friend,” he said distractedly, concentrating on stopping the noise. “Big Nintendogs fan, hence the name. I took in her dog when she died.”

Hinata nodded, then stopped. “Wait, did you say your friend—?”

“Died, yes. Freak accident in a swimming pool.” Hinata stared wide-eyed as Komaeda laughed. “Ironic, right? She named her dog Lucky then got the worst luck of all thanks to me.”

He kept staring. Komaeda ignored it, ruffling the dog’s fur and cooing at her when she squirmed. It seemed Lucky was in agreement about not trusting demons, because nothing he did to placate her could stop her snarling.

“Hey,” Hinata said hesitantly. “When you say things like that…”

Hinata trailed off, and Komaeda felt a tickle in the back of his throat at the exact wrong moment. Despite his best efforts, he sneezed, giving Lucky the chance to fly out of his arms and skitter across the floor towards the demon.

“S-sorry,” Komaeda managed. “She— _achoo!_ — isn’t usually like this.”

“It’s okay.” Hinata grimaced, trying to push Lucky’s snarling teeth away from his pant leg. “Animals don’t like me very much. Kind of comes with the whole demonic hellspawn thing.”

Suddenly, Komaeda noticed something off. His eyes widened, and Hinata’s grimace turned to a frown. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You have _fangs,”_ he whispered. Hinata snapped his mouth shut immediately.

“So what?” he challenged. Komaeda gasped and shook his head vigorously.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to insult you!” he insisted. “It’s a good thing!”

“A good thing…?”

“Yes! Well, not a _good_ thing, per se, but definitely not a bad thing. It was just… unexpected… an unexpected thing….” Komaeda cut himself off with a convenient cough. “Anyway, we should get going, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Hinata followed Komaeda outside and into the hallway, Lucky nipping at his heels until Komaeda crouched down to grab her.

“Be good, okay?” he said, pressing a kiss to her head. “I’ll be back soon.” He gave her one last gentle shove before closing the door.

“Is the hospital far?” Hinata asked. Komaeda stood back up and shook his head.

“No, it’s the same one I go to now,” he answered. “Probably a twenty minute drive, barring traffic or unlucky accidents.”

“Alright, lead the way.”

The two of them took the stairwell down to the bottom floor, Hinata following as Komaeda made his way to his car in the garage. As he moved to open it, an uncomfortable thought crossed his mind. He hesitated before unlocking the door.

“Hinata, are you sure you don’t want to go separately?” he asked.

“Huh? Why?”

Komaeda spun the keyring around his finger. Sonia’s words from earlier flashed in his mind. “Well, you must have some sort of magic teleportation thing, right? Don’t let me slow you down.”

Hinata bit his lip. _“Technically_ , you’re right,” he said, looking up towards the ceiling of the garage. “But it’s not, uh, that convenient.”

“It isn’t? Does it use up a lot of energy?”

“Sort of,” Hinata agreed, still staring at the ceiling. Komaeda hummed, unconvinced. Hinata sighed.

“I’m just really bad at it,” he admitted, still not meeting the other man’s gaze. Komaeda couldn’t quite hide his laugh with a cough.

“Well, that’s… a shame,” he said. “But if you’d rather take the train or something, that’s fine too.”

“Why would I take the train? We’re right here.”

“Mm, you know.” Judging by his expression, Hinata didn’t know. Komaeda looked at him pointedly, but no understanding dawned in his red eyes. Was he being deliberately obtuse? Had he really forgotten about the curse he was trying to break? “Getting in the car with me is dangerous,” he said simply. “For everyone.”

“Oh. That’s all?” Hinata rolled his eyes. “I may not be good at teleporting, but I think I’m at least competent enough to protect you from a car crash.”

“Protect _me_?”

“Well, yeah. You’re my client, and I can’t take your soul if you’re dead. And believe me,” he added, “it would probably take more than a car to hurt me.”

More than a car. Of course. If Komaeda were to find himself in any situation that could harm a demon, it wouldn’t be a twenty-minute drive. That thought was almost scarier.

“...alright,” he said eventually. “That’s good to know.”

He unlocked the car and opened the passenger’s side door before getting in. Hinata followed him, and they started to drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you’ve ever played nintendogs for the ds2, you’re legally obligated to read lucky’s name in that exact cadence every time komaeda says it. no i don’t make the rules
> 
> the symbol on komaeda’s back is [this one](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/danganronpa/images/6/69/Danganronpa_2_Character_Design_Profile_Hajime_Hinata.png/revision/latest?cb=20170827223656) from hinata’s tie.


End file.
